


The Chiba Legacy

by Starsea (StarseainExile)



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon, Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Don't copy to another site, F/M, Gen, Shippy Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-09 03:04:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20846492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarseainExile/pseuds/Starsea
Summary: Mamoru finally gains his legal inheritance. It's not what he expected.





	The Chiba Legacy

It was a tall building made of glass and steel. Even when it wasn’t sunny, the tower seemed to shimmer with light. On a good day, like today, it looked like it was made of pure gold, glowing like an extraterrestrial. Most people would have called the tower beautiful.

Mamoru Chiba thought it was the ugliest building in the world.

He was fully prepared to agree that this was a subjective view, formed entirely from the first time he had walked through these doors at the age of seventeen to try and reclaim his identity, and more importantly, his parents. That knowledge didn’t change his feelings one bit, however.

It was still ugly.

Three years later, having become (finally) a legal adult, he was here again to receive whatever his parents had left him. He didn’t care how small the legacy was, he didn’t care what it was, he just wanted something, _anything_ to prove that his name was real, that he had roots.

They made him wait for ten minutes. Even though he was sitting in designer clothes, he felt as if the word ‘Orphan’ was flashing above his head in neon lights, telling everybody here that he was nobody, he was nothing. Even though he knew by now that wasn’t true, had never been true, and would be a lie in the future.

After ten minutes, they brought the box to the front desk. It was small and grey, with a single lock. He didn’t want to open it there, in front of them, but there was paperwork. He should have known, there was always paperwork; his whole heart had been wrapped in red tape before she came along.

There was a list of things that should be in the box. He felt his chest tighten at the thought of examining his parents’ effects in front of these people, but when he opened the box, he saw they were bagged and the bags had labels on them. The sense of relief was so strong that he almost shuddered. It was merely a matter of checking the bag labels against the list.

Everything was in order. He could finally go home. It took all his willpower not to grab the box and run out of the door. He wanted to scream “Free at last” but he knew that would be in poor taste, so he didn’t. He thanked the officials and bowed to them, they bowed back, and he turned and walked out of the tower and prayed he would never have to go in there again, even when he became king.

He held the box tightly against his chest all the way home, his heart thumping against the metal. He cradled it almost like a baby and swallowed back the tears, swallowed back the laughter, as he’d been doing ever since he woke up in that hospital bed. He kept himself under control through the lobby, all the way to the thirty-third floor, until he opened the door and took his shoes off.

“Mamo-chan, did you get it?” She stood there on the edge of the shoe area in fluffy bunny slippers, hands clasped, eyes sparkling.

The tears finally rushed out. He laughed and held out the box to forestall her worried questions. She took it with deliberate care (as she had a habit of breaking things) and examined the lid and the sides and the lock.

“It looks so ordinary.” The disappointment in her voice made him laugh even harder and wipe the tears from his face.

“What did you expect, Usako? Crystal and gold?” he teased.

“It’s the least they could do for you!” she retorted.

He smiled, stepped into his house slippers and gathered her to him with one arm. She snuggled against him for an instant, then took his hand and tugged him towards the living room. “Do you want to open it now? Or eat first? I made curry and don’t worry, Mako-chan gave me directions over the phone. Who knew that tasting as you went along was a good idea instead of cheating?”

Mamoru listened to her chatter as he followed her. Sometimes Usagi’s talkativeness irritated him but her voice could also be soothing. She reminded him there was a world outside, and thanks to her, he was part of that world now. He sat down on the sofa and she sat beside him, curling up in the crook of his arm and placing the box on his lap.

There was a moment of silence as they both looked at it.

“I know what’s inside,” he said, swallowing and taking the key out of his pocket. “They had a list and they wanted to make sure everything was still in there.”

Usagi frowned for an instant but saw the look on Mamoru’s face and decided not to comment. The objects were carefully lifted out one by one and placed on the small table in front of the sofa. His mother’s birth certificate; his father’s birth certificate; a few photos (the colours faded); a ring set with tiny diamonds. Mamoru had already decided he would not have it valued. He picked out the birth certificates.

**Hanako Chiba**  
**Born**: 1953  
**Died**: 1981

**Daichi Chiba**  
**Born**: 1951  
**Died**: 1981

The dates and names meant nothing to him. He had been hoping for some sort of twinge, a memory, but there was nothing. They would have been otou-san and okaa-san to him. But at least the family name was the same, written with the same kanji.

He handed the birth certificates to Usagi – though they would mean even less to her – and picked up the photos instead. But the photos were nearly all of him. He saw himself as a baby in a high chair, as a toddler on a tricycle, dressed up for Christmas beneath a tree, surrounded by wrapping paper and beaming from ear to ear. In one photo, his mother was holding him in her arms but time had turned her face into a pale oval blank. In the last photo, his father was helping him put together a Lego house, but Daichi’s head was turned towards his son, so you could only see the back of his head, his black hair growing in exactly the same way as his son’s. Mamoru squinted. For a moment he heard laughter and a voice saying “Turn around, it’s supposed to show both of you!” but then it was gone. And with memory, you could never be sure what was real, and what was your imagination.

“I’m sorry, Mamo-chan,” Usagi said, resting her head on his shoulder.

Mamoru looked at her. His vision blurred for a moment and then he pulled her closer. “Why?”

“Because I know you wanted to see their faces,” she whispered. “You wanted to know what your parents looked like. That’s only natural.”

Mamoru tipped her chin up so he could look into her eyes. Their blue steadied him, calmed him. “You’re right. I still don’t know what they looked like. Maybe I’ll never know. But I know something better...” He lifted the picture of his father helping him. “I know they loved me. I was loved. And I’m still loved.”

Usagi smiled and kissed his cheek. “You’ll always be loved.”

Finally, Mamoru could smile back. “That’s the best legacy I could ever ask for.”

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the welovejenbunny LJ.


End file.
